converting stress to awesome.
I've been sailing five days out of the last week. Something must be going right. Jared was my chief accomplice as we launched the boat Tuesday night. He made a comic strip out of it -- Page 1, 2, 3 and 4.
With a ton of good reasons to put it off (it would be dark before we got in the water, it was going to rain, there wasn't wind), we decided to do it anyway and loaded up on Tuesday, tuesday of all nights. Neither of us had driven anything with a trailer before, so the ride down the hill was tense, each bump wwas a tense ride. We pulled into the abandoned marina and set about rigging out for the first time, discovering all the things we're missing and the things we marginally know the names of (clevis pins, not thingamabobs). Much discussion, tying, a brief return trip for a flashlight to lash to the bow, and we backed her down the ramp until she floated off the trailer. I hadn't realized until i exhaled that i had held my breath. She floated, she was dry, huzzah!
We ghosted down the inlet, dusted by the lightest rain. The remaining scotch (a few furtive sips) quickly disappeared. The main filled, billowed out, and we raised the jib and went wing-on-wing, more graceful than i could possibly have imagined. The wind, unusually strong so late at night, persuaded us to reach back and forth a few times before heading for home. She heeled gracefully, threw a small bow-wave with the most pleasant sound of rushing water -- heaven!
Then we got to figure out how to dock. Dock *and* prepare for the coming storm.
It's funny how the details are everything and nothing. There's a million independent problems that come up that need to be solved and dealt with: what's the best way to tie up, now, how do i stop it from breaking on the dock, how am i going to fix a tarp over it when it rains, how to fix [foo], how to jury-rig [bar], what's the best way to stow x, arrange y, and deal with issue z that i never knew would arise. None of these things are terribly interesting to tell other people (although they're plenty of fun to fix and tinker and fiddle with), but they're all required. So when I go to work on Monday and to "what did you do this weekend?", i just say "Worked on the boat..." Even when that means "i woke up at 3 am and heard it banging against the dock, so i had to go down and see some 30 year old rope had worn through and i thought i was going to lose everything and was scrambling around in my sandals at 4 am saving everything i've worked for..." blahblahblah. Who wants to hear it?.
~
I got to jump in the boat after work today, and it was possibly the best of all. We were out between 7 and 9. It was marvelous. the sun set over the mountains, we were the only ones out on the lake, even though the weather today was unnaturally warm for september. All the work, details, hassle, and stress i've put up with in the past three months to get this thing ready to go were all worth it. I haven't had a full nights sleep in weeks, but who could care? I'm sailing. The wind was enough to be fun but relaxed enough to enjoy the sky fade thru orange to purple to dark. Jared had the position of slacker first class, sprawled on deck. I'm not a great sailor, but it was perfect. It's really comfortable to man this boat solo; the jib, main, and tiller all at easy reach from a comfortable seat all stretched out. I wish i'd gotten some pictures of the sunset, but all i've got are these from the weekend and the launch.
More pictures out here and on the expeditions page. I'm going camping on this boat, i just need to ..... [million things]. Actually, most can go un-done but there i go again. details need to stay on the to-do list, save this one: I still need to decide what to call it.
With a ton of good reasons to put it off (it would be dark before we got in the water, it was going to rain, there wasn't wind), we decided to do it anyway and loaded up on Tuesday, tuesday of all nights. Neither of us had driven anything with a trailer before, so the ride down the hill was tense, each bump wwas a tense ride. We pulled into the abandoned marina and set about rigging out for the first time, discovering all the things we're missing and the things we marginally know the names of (clevis pins, not thingamabobs). Much discussion, tying, a brief return trip for a flashlight to lash to the bow, and we backed her down the ramp until she floated off the trailer. I hadn't realized until i exhaled that i had held my breath. She floated, she was dry, huzzah!
We ghosted down the inlet, dusted by the lightest rain. The remaining scotch (a few furtive sips) quickly disappeared. The main filled, billowed out, and we raised the jib and went wing-on-wing, more graceful than i could possibly have imagined. The wind, unusually strong so late at night, persuaded us to reach back and forth a few times before heading for home. She heeled gracefully, threw a small bow-wave with the most pleasant sound of rushing water -- heaven!
Then we got to figure out how to dock. Dock *and* prepare for the coming storm.
It's funny how the details are everything and nothing. There's a million independent problems that come up that need to be solved and dealt with: what's the best way to tie up, now, how do i stop it from breaking on the dock, how am i going to fix a tarp over it when it rains, how to fix [foo], how to jury-rig [bar], what's the best way to stow x, arrange y, and deal with issue z that i never knew would arise. None of these things are terribly interesting to tell other people (although they're plenty of fun to fix and tinker and fiddle with), but they're all required. So when I go to work on Monday and to "what did you do this weekend?", i just say "Worked on the boat..." Even when that means "i woke up at 3 am and heard it banging against the dock, so i had to go down and see some 30 year old rope had worn through and i thought i was going to lose everything and was scrambling around in my sandals at 4 am saving everything i've worked for..." blahblahblah. Who wants to hear it?.
~
I got to jump in the boat after work today, and it was possibly the best of all. We were out between 7 and 9. It was marvelous. the sun set over the mountains, we were the only ones out on the lake, even though the weather today was unnaturally warm for september. All the work, details, hassle, and stress i've put up with in the past three months to get this thing ready to go were all worth it. I haven't had a full nights sleep in weeks, but who could care? I'm sailing. The wind was enough to be fun but relaxed enough to enjoy the sky fade thru orange to purple to dark. Jared had the position of slacker first class, sprawled on deck. I'm not a great sailor, but it was perfect. It's really comfortable to man this boat solo; the jib, main, and tiller all at easy reach from a comfortable seat all stretched out. I wish i'd gotten some pictures of the sunset, but all i've got are these from the weekend and the launch.
More pictures out here and on the expeditions page. I'm going camping on this boat, i just need to ..... [million things]. Actually, most can go un-done but there i go again. details need to stay on the to-do list, save this one: I still need to decide what to call it.